When it was down to the pit, she wiped her mouth and fingers carefully, then wrapped the remains in the napkin.

Like a corpse in a shroud, she thought, looking at it mournfully.

Stop it, Gwennie. Those thoughts will take you down a dark corridor.

She quickly tossed it into the wastepaper basket, then stared at her desk. She spent the next hour comparing notes from her two boxes of index cards, coming up with matches that she wanted to run by Iris before sending letters on to the bachelors. Always the bachelors, so they could make the first contact, as gentlemen should. Whether they were gentlemen or not.

Gentlemen, she thought suddenly.

She picked up the receiver from the telephone and rang home.

“Bainbridge residence,” answered Percival, their butler.

“It’s Mrs. Bainbridge, Percival,” she said. “I would like to speak to Ronnie, if he’s not busy. And Agnes when he’s done.”

“Master Ronald is in the playroom,” he said. “I will summon him for you.”

“Thank you, Percival.”

She waited, then smiled as she heard a clattering of rapid footsteps coming towards the telephone. She held the receiver away from her ear.

“Mummy!” shouted Little Ronnie.

“Indoor voice, please,” she admonished him. “Hello, my lovely boy. How are you?”

“Agnes is teaching me how to make large numbers,” he said. “We got all the way up to five hundred!”

“What fun! Do you have a favourite number?”

“Seventeen.”

“Really? Why seventeen?”

“I don’t know, I just like it the best.”

“Then seventeen it shall be. I was thinking—would you like to go to the Natural History Museum on Saturday?”

“It’s Tommy’s birthday party. Grandmother is taking me.”

“Ah yes,” said Gwen, her heart sinking slightly. “Well, we’ll go together some other time. Anyhow, I wanted to remind you that Mummy will be going out later, so I won’t be able to kiss you good night tonight.”

“Where are you going?”

“To a play reading.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, our friend Sally has written a play, and we’re going to read all the parts out loud so he can hear what it sounds like and decide what he needs to change.”

“Is it a panto?”

“Not exactly.”

“Are you going to wear costumes and sing? You could dress up like Puss in Boots!”

“Oh, that would be fun,” laughed Gwen. “But I’m afraid it’s a play for grown-ups, so we won’t be doing any of those things.”

“It doesn’t sound like much fun without songs and costumes,” said Ronnie.

“You have different kinds of fun when you’re a grown-up.”

“Then I don’t want to grow up,” he declared.

“Well, that’s fine with me,” said Gwen. “You’re absolutely wonderful the way you are right now.”

“But I want to be taller!”

“You will be, my darling. Now, blow me a kiss, and I shall blow you a kiss.”

She heard a loud smack, and matched it in volume.

“Good night, my lovely boy, and let me talk to Agnes for a moment.”